Wednesday, April 27, 2016

May 2016

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Planters Punchlines
Men’s Garden Club of Wethersfield
May 2016
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NEXT MEETING – PLEASE NOTE SPECIAL DATE, TIME AND LOCATION

Monday May 9, 5:30 pm @ Tony Sanders house @ 281 Garden Street, Wethersfield.  (Rain Date – if Plant Sale is rain delayed, then this is rescheduled  for May 16)  Reminisce about sale.  Pick from the leftovers for your own use or as a really cheap belated Mother’s Day present.  Hot dogs, beer & soda will be available.

Donate some perennials from your personal collection to the Plant Sale

Plants should be split and potted ASAP to look good for the sale. Please label all plants.  Contact Fred Odell (860.529.6064) for official pots and plant labels.

Plant Sale Saturday May 7th (Rain Date May 14th)
7:00 - 9:00 Set Up      Deliver homegrowns, unload plants, price plants, set up tables
9:00 - 1:00 Sell           Help customers, total up sales, answer questions
1:00 - 2:00 Close       Clean up, break down tables, pack up leftover plants
Volunteer!                 Contribute your own “homegrowns” 
President Tony Sanders will make the “go or no go” rain decision and get the word out.
                                   
Weston Rose Garden
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The Rose Garden was opened and weeded on April 16.  On April 30 @ 8 am we will remove & replace the dead bushes & cut more deadwood.  This year each club member is asked to volunteer to maintain one of the small plots on their own schedule.  A plan of the garden will be at the plant sale & May meeting for signing up.   This is the club’s major civic volunteer effort – please participate!

Annual Picnic
The annual Club Picnic will be held on Monday, June 6, on the grounds (and porch) of The Solomon Welles House, from 5:30 until 8:00 pm.  More to come.

Compostable Matter
By Jim Meehan

            I am a long time time fan of the Henry David Thoreau’s writing – especially his thoughts on nature. Not so much his aphorisms on the importance of the environment, but his descriptions of how he felt working in it - e.g. hoeing beans in his Walden garden. His message seemed to be that nature was not something magical to be viewed with awe and wonder, but instead needed to be interacted with in a sustaining and nurturing way in order for both it and man to have their full significance.
            Just before we bought our first and only house forty years ago I was reading quite a bit of Henry David.   Then, one month after moving in, our entire landscape went from a collection of non-existent or short-and-orderly bystanders to a run-amok mob of thigh-high grass and rapidly growing unfamiliar flora. And my neophyte hopes of a cooperative and spiritual relationship with Mother Nature changed to the terrifying fears of a sinner in the hands of an angry goddess.  And reading time took second-place behind survival.
            But partially because of Henry David's words I was gradually able to settle on a combination of methods, techniques and tools - like hand-tilling the gardens, creating my own compost, organically treating the yard, hand-trimming the bushes and hedges, and my beloved mulching mower - that allowed me to gain control of, and then re-shape our tiny topography into a place where Mars, I, and (hopefully) the flora and fauna of our outside world feel at home. It is still a work in progress, and always will be to a certain degree - that is after all the fun of it.
            As Thoreau said, "What is the use of a house if you haven't got a tolerable planet to put it on?"

A Tolerable Planet

Bare hands gently place
Compost 'round roots from a friend.
Three lives are enriched.


A Desert Hardy That Can Bloom in New England
By Amy D’Orio – NY Times

            EVERY spring, John Spain of Middlebury is notified of the same death. A friend calls to tell him that the garden Mr. Spain started for him did not survive the winter.
            And every year, Mr. Spain visits a friend's garden and proclaims the cactuses, although shriveled, very much alive and no worse for the snow, harsh winds and sub-zero temperatures.
            It seems even Mr. Spain's friends have a hard time believing his cactus claim: hundreds of varieties of cactuses, including the well-known prickly pear, can be grown outdoors in Connecticut and survive the winter. There is even a cactus that is native to Connecticut, a wildflower. But Mr. Spain is doubted still; the plants are perceived as much a symbol of the desert as rattlesnakes and scorpions.
            A retired Uniroyal training executive, Mr. Spain says he has one of the largest collections of winter-hardy cactuses in the country. He grows hundreds of varieties in his backyard, a slice of the Southwest that is only a few yards from rhododendron and fern.
            The cactuses may seem out of place, but they thrive north of the Mason/Dixie line and can carry a bed all by themselves. They come in various shapes, sizes and blooms of yellow, orange, pink and red. A 60-foot-long bed of cactus only is the centerpiece of Mr. Spain's backyard garden.
            For the size of his cactus garden, he said he puts in few hours; cactus, of course, require little water. Also, few diseases afflict them in the state, and they do not seem to be part of the food chain for beetles, deer or other pests. But, for all these assets, outdoor cactus gardening in Connecticut is, well, novel.''People are always surprised,'' Mr. Spain said.
            Most people in the state, including experienced gardeners, know little about cactus and generally assume they can't grow them outside, he said.
            Mr. Spain is always eager to correct misconceptions, and people who meet him soon learn that cactuses grow near the Arctic circle and in trees. They can be 20 years old and still no bigger than a golf ball, and the plants are native only to North and South America.
            Some gardeners are aware that cactuses can be grown in Connecticut, but are often mislead at nurseries where the perceived wisdom is that only one yellow-blooming variety is hardy to the region, he said.
            Before Roseann Richard, owner of Walnut Hill Greenhouse in Litchfield, met Mr. Spain about 10 years ago, she knew of no one who grew cactuses outdoors year-round in the state, and she did not think it possible.
            ''He proved you could if you treat them a certain way,'' she said. ''Nobody knew which ones you could grow until he came along.''
            Through trial and error for more than three decades, Mr. Spain has assembled a list of plants that can grow in cold climates, and he has developed ways to help them adapt.
            When he started, he said, he found only two suppliers of winter-hardy cactus in the entire country. Unlike someone trying to grow roses, Mr. Spain was not going to find answers to his horticultural problems in the local library or nursery.
            Due to this dearth of information, for almost as long as Mr. Spain has been growing winter-hardy cactuses, he has been educating the public about them. He and a few others successfully lobbied the Northeast Rock Garden Society to accept the cactus as a legitimate alpine plant, with a rock garden pedigree.
            Mr. Spain, a resident of Connecticut for 24 years, is also a founder and first president of the Connecticut Cactus and Succulent Society. He published a book on winter-hardy cactuses, helped many gardeners start their own collections, and is on the garden-club-speaker circuit.
            ''He has definitely been the introducer of winter-hardy cactus in the state,'' said Jack Phillips, the current president of the cactus society. ''He has been willing to share time with anyone interested in this hobby.''
            Mr. Spain's passion for cactus developed by chance in 1966 due to a greenhouse too small for his ambitions. He said he wanted to spend his hours coaxing blooms from orchids, but could not because of the expense involved, and was frustrated with begonias because they took too much room. Then he found the cactus.
            After a trip to Colorado, he returned with a few cactuses for his three young boys. Though thrilled at first, the boys lost interest in about 20 minutes. ''So then they were mine,'' he said. ''I discovered I could have a whole lot of them and you don't have to water every day.''
            Easy care is essential for a gardener who travels frequently and has a spouse more interested in needlepoint than horticulture.
            Soon after, Mr. Spain, then living in Michigan, met a person who grew cactus outdoors and that was the start of his winter-hardy passion.
            To keep costs down, he has grown many of his plants from seed. While some grow fast, others can take a year and a half just to be the size of a matchstick head.
            Mr. Spain said there are three main families of cactus that grow in cold climates: echinocereus, coryphantha and opuntia. However, within these families, there are hundreds of varieties.
            To survive the Connecticut climate, the cactuses need full sun (at least five hours) and excellent drainage. He suggests mixing a lot of sand and gravel into the soil and using raised beds.
            Mr. Spain said cactuses do like humus-rich soil though.
            ''They will be growing out of a rock, but don't be fooled, because inside the soil is black as can be,'' he said.
            A few favorites growing in his own outdoor gardens include one that is 11 years old ''and still that tiny,'' he said, pointing to a plant no bigger than a small loaf of bread.
            He also dotes on one particular opuntia fragilis, Bronze Beauty, which has pads that turn bronze in winter.
            He likes it because he got to name it. The plant is unlike its closest relatives and Mr. Spain has been unable to find any documentation of it, so he took the honors of giving it a name.
            And even though he grows a few orchids now, he is more apt to talk about his opuntia polyacantha Crystal Tide.
            It has a near-white flower with a blood red center, and he unequivocally calls it the most beautiful of the opuntia blooms.
            ''I am really not an orchid person,'' he said.


Think Foliage, Not Flowers, When Planning an Ornamental Garden
Jef Cox – Press Democrat

            It’s not what most gardeners think of right away when planning an ornamental garden, but foliage should be considered first, even before flower color. Here’s why.
            Unless you just want to pack in as much riotous color as possible until your property looks like a holiday light display, you’ll want to put together a tasteful and restrained use of flower color. Some of the most tasteful and elegant gardens in the world don’t use much color at all. Think of Japanese gardens, the most admired of which don’t include flowering plants. The most admired of them all, the Zen Garden at Kyoto, doesn’t even use plants.
            For elegance, then, you’ll want to avoid heavy displays of annuals that pump out bright colors all summer long.
            Perennial flowering plants are much more restrained, with quiet beauty. Most perennials, though, don’t have long seasons of bloom. Wisteria, for instance, is gorgeous, but it gives you 10 to 12 days of bloom at most. From the exquisite bleeding hearts (Dicentra spectabilis) of spring to the delicate Japanese anemones (Anemone japonica) of fall, we’re lucky to get more than two or three weeks of bloom from our choicest perennials.
            When they’re not in flower, all we see is foliage. Since most perennials have such short seasons of bloom, and flowering trees and shrubs as well, it behooves us to design first for foliage and let flower color — as important as it is — take second place.
            What does it mean to “design for foliage?”
            It means to be aware of the many characteristics of leaves within certain categories and then to combine them in the garden in ways that are aesthetically pleasing.
            Shape is a primary category. Within it we find the thin blades of grasses and grass-like plants. Examples are Maiden Grass “Morning Light” (Miscanthus sinensis), whose thin grassy leaves seem to light up when backlit by the sun, so plant it where it will erupt into sunbeams when you step outside on sunny morning. Other ornamental grasses include the pennisetums and panicums. One of the best grasslike plants, suitable for a shady spot, is golden Japanese forest grass (Hakonechloa macra “Aureola”), which looks like a yellow-gold waterfall of grass blades, all arching in the same direction.
            Leaf shapes also range from spear-point to oval; from wide like Fatsia japonica to fan-shaped like Gingko biloba; from straight and slender like mondo grass (Ophiopogon japonicas) to round like water lily leaves. Some are single leaves emerging from stems or bulbs, others resemble the fingers of a hand, like Fingerleaf Rodgersia (Rodgersia aesculifolia).
            Size is a category filled with every possibility from the tiny, foamy foliage of Baby’s Breath (Gypsophila paniculata) to the very long strap-like leaves of New Zealand Flax (Phormium tenax); from the very narrow strands of Blue Fescue (Festuca glauca) to the huge leaves of Gunnera manicata and lotus leaves.
            Color is dominated by all shades of green, due to the function of leaves converting sunlight and carbon dioxide into sugar and oxygen by means of green chlorophyll. There are many other leaf colors, from the dark oxbloods of myrobalan plums to brick red sedums, chalky purple Coral Bells (Heuchera hybrids) and yellow-streaked phormiums. No matter what the leaf color, there’s green chlorophyll in there, even when it’s hiding. The shadier the spot where a plant with colored leaves is situated, the more green it’s likely to show, so if you want interesting, odd leaf colors, use sun-lovers and site them in a sunny spot.
            The chief rule when designing for foliage first is to contrast these characteristics. A garden filled with plants with leaves of similar size, shape and color isn’t very interesting when out of flower. But if the little leaves of creeping thyme (Thymus serpyllum) are planted under the wide leaves of pincushion flowers (Scabiosa atropurpurea), the association looks good throughout the growing season.

Similarly with color. An even more striking pairing using creeping thyme would be to plant it with the sun-loving succulent Aeonium arboretum “Zwartkop” whose fleshy rosettes of leaves are almost black.
            In the shade, the dark green leaves of Daphne odora — the species, not the common hybrid called “Aureomarginata” — make a beautiful marriage with Hakonechloa macra “Aureola.”
            Another excellent companion would be to underplant the daphne with the silver-grey leaves of dead nettle (Lamium maculatum “Beacon Silver”), whose bright, almost white leaves will light up the shadiest corner of your garden. If the daphne likes its spot (it must be well-drained), it will reward you with the most exciting fragrance in February, a fragrance that will carry 100 feet or more.
            In other words, plant opposites: big with little, slender with wide, light with dark, color with its complement, and vary the shades of green.
            Of course, there are cultural considerations as well as visual and aesthetic ones. A plant has to like its spot to do well. Lavender is beautiful, but it’s not going to love being planted where the soil stays wet from irrigation. Shade-lovers will burn out if planted in a sunny spot. You have to know the conditions a plant likes, and then plant contrasting forms and colors using other plants that like those same conditions.
            Your best resource when planning for fabulous foliage is Sunset’s Western Garden Book. It has many pages devoted to lists and photos of plants by foliage color and type as well as flower color, and an encyclopedic description of how to care for and site those plants.


Let's All Start 2016 Right: 5 Resolutions for Tomato Lovers
By Craig LeHoullier motherearthnews.com

            Ah, the calm before the storm. It is smack in-between Christmas and New Year Day. Music is playing, some coffee cakes are baking in the oven. Oddly, it is in the mid-70s in Raleigh NC – a few very confused plants are blooming (a weigela, an azalea, and a spirea). Below are some still-growing tomatoes with the spirea in the background, living green Salvia Guaranitica, and dead brown leaves...quite a juxtaposition!
            This is a perfect time for reflection and planning, because the 2016 gardening season is peeking around the corner. Seed catalogs are arriving. I am sure that all of us are really missing freshly picked tomatoes. Don’t despair – we will all soon be busy, and the work of planning and seeding, transplanting and planting, and the regular gardening tasks of maintenance will lead quickly to the summer harvest.
            In the spirit of the annual custom of making New Year resolutions, here is a brief list of 5 ideas for your 2016 tomato growing efforts.
            1. Try Some New Varieties
            It is human nature to return to those things that we’ve grown attached to. Whether it is a favorite food item, article of clothing or piece of music, there is great comfort in familiarity.
            When it comes to tomatoes, we are fortunate to garden at a time when the choices are truly endless. Be it maturity dates, sizes, shapes, colors, flavor characteristics or plant habits, there is really no reason to NOT add some variety to your plantings.

If you are a fan of hybrid tomatoes, consider adding in a few heirloom types. 'Big Beef' is a really good tomato, as is 'Better Boy,' 'Lemon Boy,' and any number of other tasty, productive hybrid varieties. Think of trying Andrew Rahart’s 'Jumbo Red' or Aker’s 'West Virginia' for that old-fashioned, red beefsteak type. Hugh’s or Lillian’s 'Yellow Heirloom' are spectacular bright yellow varieties. I’ve not found an exact flavor substitute for the wildly popular orange hybrid cherry tomato 'Sun Gold,' but 'Lemon Drop' and 'Egg Yolk' are right up there in addictive flavor and insane productivity.
            2. Give Your Plants More Room
            It is so hard to abide by the planting distance guidelines when tiny seedlings, or seeds, leave so much space seemingly unused in the garden. We are all so anxious to fill up our baskets with overflowing crops and wish therefore to maximize our garden’s productivity.
            Overcrowding can lead to some serious issues, particularly for tomatoes. Health is far easier to maintain when there is good air circulation and sun exposure completely around each plant. Many tomato foliage issues arise from fungal spores that blow or splash onto foliage. Air and sun helps dry the foliage more quickly, preventing or slowing the ability of the spores to take hold.
            3. Grow Some of Your Plants a Different Way
            If you’ve always planted your tomatoes in garden soil but are experiencing disease or yield issues, consider container or straw bale gardening – at least on a small scale, at first. Often, especially if a garden size prevents good crop rotation, diseases build up in soil that reduce the success of the tomato crop each year. Sometimes it is the effect of trees growing taller, limiting sunshine.
            Any type of tomato can be grown in a container or bale, as long as you size and space them appropriately. Indeterminate varieties will do best with a minimum 10 gallon container capacity. Dwarf or determinate varieties will be just fine in a 5 gallon pot. If using straw bales, limit your planting density to two plants per bale, no matter which type of tomato you choose. Often, the best sun exposure on your property is on a location not suitable for a traditional in ground or raised bed garden. Considering containers or bales simply allows you to bring the tomatoes to the best sun location in your yard.
            Of course, the reverse is true as well. If containers or bales are too costly (due to materials or watering needs) or simply extra work, and you have a nice spot of land where you can dig a garden that will have adequate sun exposure, grow them in the ground. You may appreciate a lower maintenance crop – the ground holds nutrients and water more effectively than containers or bales, meaning less frequent watering and feeding.
            If you typically stake tomatoes, try using cages. Consider how you prune as well. Staking requires quite a bit of work, but creating and storing cages leads to other considerations. Caging eliminates the need to prune, however. Like most things related to gardening, it is all about the trade-offs.
            4. Spend More Time “Reading Your Plants”
            I find little in life more enjoyable than my daily walk through my garden. Truth be told, it is usually more than once a day. There is much to learn from watching your plants grow. Aside from the fascinating types of observations – relative foliage shape and color and flower form on each particular variety, growth habit, numbers of flowers per cluster, and so many more – the plants have much to relate regarding their well-being, or challenges.
            Tomato plants are speaking to you through their leaf shape. Is it supposed to be what it appears to be? The plants tell you about their health through foliage color. Yellow or brown or black spots or splotches on leaves or stems always mean bad news. Wilting plants on a hot sunny day are like wilting people – they are thirsty. If the wilt doesn’t go away after watering, it means something else. And if the wilting is accompanied by any color other than green, you got it – trouble.
            Curling tomato foliage could mean disease, but it could also mean insect damage. Get up close and personal with the leaves – turn them over and look for small insects – aphids, or perhaps whitefly. Missing parts of plants indicate a hungry critter, and if it is a tomato hornworm, you often have to spend a bit of time searching for it.
            As you read your plants, enjoy the fresh air, listen to the music of nature – crickets, birds, tree frogs. My wife loves yoga as a way of relaxing, and we both like kayaking. But for me, a solitary few hours among my tomato plants is both therapy and education, often leading to future success.
            5. Put on Your "Inner Scientist" Hat and Devise a Project
            I am often asked questions about the impact or benefit of various nutrients and additives, planting times, and cultural choices such as pruning. Use of a solution of powdered milk as a spray to ward off fungal diseases is just one tip I often hear; another is application of Epsom salt solutions for improved plant health. Then there is winter sowing, or planting by the phases of the moon, or various pruning techniques (removal of various numbers of suckers or side shoots) and the effect on yield, plant health, fruit size, and flavor.
            If you think of your garden as a big laboratory, and are a person who is not only curious, but likes the answers to questions, please consider picking out an idea and treating it as an experiment or project. Last year I had two projects going; growing all of our Dwarf Tomato Breeding Project releases growing in straw bales, and carrying out some new crosses that will lead to additional dwarf varieties.
            The most important thing to keep in mind is to try to vary only one factor so that you can clearly see the impact of your idea or test. If you want to explore the effect of Epsom salts on tomato health, grow the same variety in the same area of the garden, starting with plants of the same age. The only thing that you should do differently to one of the plants is apply a solution of Epsom salts. Feeding, watering, pruning, staking – everything else should be the same. Take good notes, and at the end of the season, you will have the beginning of an answer – a tangible difference or improvement, perhaps. If it looks like something of great promise, repeat it the following year to confirm the result.
            Another interesting project would be to grow two indeterminate varieties exactly the same way, in the same area, but prune one to a single center stem, and let the other plant develop a number of fruiting branches. At the end of the season, compare the size and number of tomatoes, and the flavor.
            These types of little mini projects help to cut through the vast amount of gardening folklore – techniques handed down from year to year, but often without evidence to back up their real value. If you pick out a few nagging questions that you’ve been dying to answer, turn them into a little project. You will find that your love of gardening only increases, that your desire to jump out of bed to “see what’s happening out there” only gets more intense.
            Oh – and don’t forget to share your results. Gardeners are wonderful sharers – of seeds, plants, tomatoes, and information. Whatever you learn from your project will be of great value to others.

Horti-Culture Corner

With rake and seeds and sower,
And hoe and line and reel,
When the meadows shrill with "peeping"
And the old world wakes from sleeping,
Who wouldn't be a grower
That has any heart to feel?

~Frederick Frye Rockwell, "Invitation," Around the Year in the Garden, 1913

Monday, April 11, 2016

June 2016


Planters Punchlines

Men’s Garden Club of Wethersfield

June 2016

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ANNUAL PICNIC - MONDAY June 6th, 5:30 -8:00 p.m. at the SOLOMON WELLES HOUSE 220 Hartford Ave. WethersfieldWives, dates, guests, potential members are cordially invited.  The club will supply hot dogs, hamburgers, etc., beer, wine & soda. 



You are asked to please bring a dessert if your name comes alphabetically between Sey Adil and Fred Odell – an appetizer, salad or side dish if you are between Charlie Officer and Don Williams. Please bring your own lawn chairs.   Seating on the porch in case of rain.  Call Prez Tony ASAP @ (860) 529-3257 to let him know how many people and what you are bringing.  



A brief business meeting will be held before we dine to elect the 2015-16 club officers and to discuss possible July/August activities.The following will be nominated at the picnic: President: Tony Sanders,  Vice President: Howard Becker, Secretary: James Sulzen, Treasurer: Richard Prentice. 




Rose Garden:  We will decide at the June picnic/meeting when we will mulch the garden.  And we will be looking for volunteers to maintain those sections of the rose garden that do not yet have coverage.



Compostable Matter

By Jim Meehan



I recently read something that describes what the work of gardening means to me much more clearly than my many previous efforts in this column.  The following is from a Swedish crime novel called “Open Grave” by Kjell Eriksson.  One of the book’s characters is Karsten – a landscaper.  He may well turn out to also be a murderer (I haven’t read that far yet) – but, so what if he is, all I care about for now are his thoughts on the activity that brings our merry group of plantsmen together.
           
            “No machinery could be brought onto the property.  So now he had to dig by hand, though actually he had nothing against that.  It was hard work that tried your patience, but after a while the precisely weighed movements created a pleasant pace, an almost hypnotic rhythm, where repetition gave him the time he needed for reflection, or rather a kind of meditative calm.
            “The rain did not bother him – on the contrary the made the ground softer.  He toiled on as always, occupied by the monotony. Every shovelful demanded a similar thought and muscular effort, but with a little variation in every stroke, invisible to an outside observer, a kind of automated and polished finesse that amused him, granted him satisfaction.  A visitor at the edge of the excavation would think, Nice that I don’t have to do this mechanical job.
            “He had experienced so many times how the uninformed felt sympathy for him, that he had to toil in this old-fashioned way, that he did not let bother him.  He saw it differently: Others were missing out on something valuable and were to be pitied.  They saw only the sweat that appeared on his forehead and in his armpits and how his muscles wee forced to work.  Nothing else.”
            “In the hole he would plant a magnolia, which stood in a garbage bag against the wall.  Alongside were three sacks of compost. As ground cover he would use wintergreen, an unimaginative choice perhaps, but a safe bet, hardy and invasive as it was.  And he approached the blue flowers.  The magnolia was a Wada’s Memory, one of the best white-blooming varieties.  It would all be complemented with a few Himalayan wildflowers and, as a companion to the magnolia, the witch alder from the neighbor.  He would also dig down a few yellow stars-of-Bethlehem.  Spring dominance with an element of sparkling autumn fire, that was his intention.
            “What a joy it was just to be able to look at his work, and actually be able to touch it.  A bus driver had every reason to be proud of his job, his trips, but purely physically there wasn’t much to show afterward.  A teacher might feel satisfaction when her pupils understood what she was talking about, but there was nothing tangible that testified to her exertions.
            “A landscaper on the other hand could return to his workplace five, ten, or fifty years later and see that the result of his work was there…a horse chestnut or whatever it was, and many times more magnificent than the design…a striped maple’s full beauty did not appear until after a couple of decades.
            “Whether the magnolia would be alive in fifty years was uncertain, but it would certainly bloom splendidly every spring in any event as long as he himself was alive and certainly many years after.”
           
Now that’s what I’m talking about!!

Horti-Culture Corner

"17 Tomato Haiku"

by John Egerton - http://www.chapter16.org



Haikus are poems of 17 syllables with five in the first line, seven in the second and five in the third.  Here are 17 Tomato Haikus arranged in groups of 5, 7, and 5.



5



Organic mother,

Fill my senses to the top

With crimson goodness.



Beefsteak behemoth,

Cover my entire sandwich

With a single slice.



No other Bradley,

Not even Bill the hoopster,

Could ring my bell like this.



Bursting, sensuous,

Your beauty's more than skin deep,

Drown me in your flesh.



Who's the tomato?

She's hot, no doubt about it;

Not a Better Girl.





7



Bacon, mayonnaise,

Lettuce, bread and kosher salt,

Tomato. Sublime.



For my last supper?

Tomatoes from the field, cooled,

With coarsely ground salt.



Three wishes, Genie?

Just so: Creativity,

Love—and Tomatoes.



July, you're a woman,

Ergo, unfathomable.

Fire-engine red bliss.



Tight skin, red as fire.

Can't keep my eyes off of you.

I worship your orbs.



Without tomato,

All sandwiches are feeble.

Kick it up a notch!



Not much to look at—

But any way you slice it,

Heirlooms are the best!

5



I'd give wealth, riches,

To have Tennessee home-grown

Tomatoes in March.



Tennessee Williams

Couldn't hold a candle to

Tennessee Big Boys.



Were I a vegan,

Tomatoes would be my meat—

And my potatoes.



Tomato worship—

A Tennessee mainstream faith—

Called pagan elsewhere.



Forced to choose between

True love and ripe tomatoes—

Don't push me that far.





Celebrate the Three Sisters: Corn, Beans and Squash

by Alice Formiga - http://www.reneesgarden.com



According to Iroquois legend, corn, beans, and squash are three inseparable sisters who only grow and thrive together. This tradition of interplanting corn, beans and squash in the same mounds, widespread among Native American farming societies, is a sophisticated, sustainable system that provided long-term soil fertility and a healthy diet to generations. Growing a Three Sisters garden is a wonderful way to feel more connected to the history of this land, regardless of our ancestry.

             
Corn, beans and squash were among the first important crops domesticated by ancient Mesoamerican societies. Corn was the primary crop, providing more calories or energy per acre than any other. According to Three Sisters legends corn must grow in community with other crops rather than on its own - it needs the beneficial company and aide of its companions.

             
The Iroquois believe corn, beans and squash are precious gifts from the Great Spirit, each watched over by one of three sisters spirits, called the De-o-ha-ko, or Our Sustainers". The planting season is marked by ceremonies to honor them, and a festival commemorates the first harvest of green corn on the cob. By retelling the stories and performing annual rituals, Native Americans passed down the knowledge of growing, using and preserving the Three Sisters through generations.



Corn provides a natural pole for bean vines to climb. Beans fix nitrogen on their roots, improving the overall fertility of the plot by providing nitrogen to the following years corn. Bean vines also help stabilize the corn plants, making them less vulnerable to blowing over in the wind. Shallow-rooted squash vines become a living mulch, shading emerging weeds and preventing soil moisture from evaporating, thereby improving the overall crops chances of survival in dry years. Spiny squash plants also help discourage predators from approaching the corn and beans. The large amount of crop residue from this planting combination can be incorporated back into the soil at the end of the season, to build up the organic matter and improve its structure.

             
Corn, beans and squash also complement each other nutritionally. Corn provides carbohydrates, the dried beans are rich in protein, balancing the lack of necessary amino acids found in corn. Finally, squash yields both vitamins from the fruit and healthful, delicious oil from the seeds.

             
Native Americans kept this system in practice for centuries without the modern conceptual vocabulary we use today, i.e. soil nitrogen, vitamins, etc. They often look for signs in their environment that indicate the right soil temperature and weather for planting corn, i.e. when the Canada geese return or the dogwood leaves reach the size of a squirrels ear. You may wish to record such signs as you observe in your garden and neighborhood so that, depending on how well you judged the timing, you can watch for them again next season!

             
Early European settlers would certainly never have survived without the gift of the Three Sisters from the Native Americans, the story behind our Thanksgiving celebration. Celebrating the importance of these gifts, not only to the Pilgrims but also to civilizations around the globe that readily adopted these New World crops, adds meaning to modern garden practices

             
Success with a Three Sisters garden involves careful attention to timing, seed spacing, and varieties. In many areas, if you simply plant all three in the same hole at the same time, the result will be a snarl of vines in which the corn gets overwhelmed!

             
Instructions for Planting Your Own Three Sisters Garden in a 10 x 10 square

             
When to plant:


Sow seeds any time after spring night temperatures are in the 50 degree range, up through June.

             
What to plant:

             
Corn must be planted in several rows rather than one long row to ensure adequate pollination. Choose pole beans or runner beans and a squash or pumpkin variety with trailing vines, rather than a compact bush. At Renee's Garden, we have created our Three Sisters Garden Bonus Pack, which contains three inner packets of multi-colored Indian Corn, Rattlesnake Beans to twine up the corn stalks and Sugar Pie Pumpkins to cover the ground.

             
Note: A 10 x 10 foot square of space for your Three Sisters garden is the minimum area needed to ensure good corn pollination. If you have a small garden, you can plant fewer mounds, but be aware that you may not get good full corn ears as a result.

             
How to plant:

             
Please refer to the diagrams below and to individual seed packets for additional growing information.



1. Choose a site in full sun (minimum 6-8 hours/day of direct sunlight throughout thegrowing season). Amend the soil with plenty of compost or aged manure, since corn is a heavy feeder and the nitrogen from your beans will not be available to the corn during the first year. With string, mark off three ten-foot rows, five feet apart.

            
 2. In each row, make your corn/bean mounds. The center of each mound should be 5 feetapart from the center of the next. Each mound should be 18 across with flattened tops. The mounds should be staggered in adjacent rows. See Diagram #1

            
 Note: The Iroquois and others planted the three sisters in raised mounds about 4 inches high, in order to improve drainage and soil warmth; to help conserve water, you can make a small crater at the top of your mounds so the water doesn’t drain off the plants quickly. Raised mounds were not built in dry, sandy areas where soil moisture conservation was a priority, for example in parts of the southwest. There, the three sisters were planted in beds with soil raised around the edges, so that water would collect in the beds (See reference 2 below for more information). In other words, adjust the design of your bed according to your climate and soil type.

             
3. Plant 4 corn seeds in each mound in a 6 in square. See Diagram #2

            
 4. When the corn is 4 inches tall, its time to plant the beans and squash. First, weed the entire patch. Then plant 4 bean seeds in each corn mound. They should be 3 in apart from the corn plants, completing the square as shown in Diagram #3.

             
5. Build your squash mounds in each row between each corn/bean mound. Make them the same size as the corn/bean mounds. Plant 3 squash seeds, 4 in. apart in a triangle in the middle of each mound as shown in Diagram #4.

             
6. When the squash seedlings emerge, thin them to 2 plants per mound. You may have to weed the area several times until the squash take over and shade new weeds.










Half-Assed, Lazy, and Extremely Successful

http://gardenrant.com



 The one real contribution I hope to make to the literature of vegetable gardening is my total shamelessness. I’ve been growing so much food for so long that failures of any kind do not faze me, whether due to Acts of God or my own negligence. I firmly believe that perfection should be left to the professionals (and also that even the professionals never achieve it, because Mother Nature has her moods.) Unlike perfection, half-assedness and laziness are reasonable goals for people with day jobs. And fortunately, when it comes to growing food, half-assedness and laziness are generally sufficient for success.

             
Here’s proof: My community garden plot, which I visited exactly three times over the course of the season: Once, in mid-July, to plant. Once, in mid-August, to thin the carrots, bury the potato plants in their trenches, water, and weed. And then again yesterday to harvest.

             
I took the plot in the inaugural year of a lovely community garden organized by the delightful Susan Bokan on a patch of vacant land at Wesley, our local senior housing campus. Since I sold my second home, I now garden in my city backyard, not in the expansive garden I had in the country–and I often feel a little claustrophobic there and long to spread out. When Susan called me on June 6th to offer me a bed, long after I’d gotten my own backyard garden in, I said, “Susan, it’s a little late in the year, isn’t it?”

             
But half a second later, I thought, “second crop of potatoes” and took it.

             
I wound up annoying the rest of the community gardeners by failing to plant until mid-July. Hey, I know my potato schedule very well! But for many weeks of the summer, my six by ten foot raised bed was the only unpretty square in a pretty patchwork quilt.

             
Besides as many potatoes as I could cram in, I planted only three other crops in my bed: A strip of carrots at the front, a single row of sweet potatoes, and a row of collards.  And then I forgot about the whole damned thing, until mid-August when it occured to me that I should really thin those carrots. The bed was very dry, so I watered, just that once.

             
I live in the Northeast, where this particular form of neglect–a failure to get out the hose–tends not to be lethal.

             
Yesterday, I pulled out a lot of potatoes from that little bed and a scary number of gorgeous, sweet carrots. I’ll let the collards sit a little longer.

             
And the sweet potatoes! A total flyer. A crop I’ve never grown before, mainly because I live in an uncongenial climate for sweet potatoes. Sweet potatoes are native to South or Central America and are reputed to want a long growing season and lots of heat. I thought I would give them a try this year, now that I am gardening in balmy Saratoga Springs,NY, Zone 5, rather than chilly Washington County, NY, Zone 4. In spring, I tried getting slips going in the house as per instructions, using organic sweet potatoes from the supermarket. A total failure: no slips, just rotting sweet potato bits sitting in jars of foul water on the windowsill.

            
 Clearly, planting sweet potatoes in mid-July in upstate New York is ridiculous. But nonetheless, I did have a couple of sprouted sweet potatoes sitting around the kitchen as I was planting my community garden bed, and I stuck them in the ground in the name of science.

             
My God, what a productive crop! Each sweet potato yielded dozens of young ones. They weren’t huge, but surely would have been delicious, except that a vole had beaten me there and eaten nearly every one hollow. In fact, I disturbed the fat little vole with the excellent palate while yanking them out.

             
But I do not consider this a failure! Instead, it is an illuminating experiment. And next year, by God, I will make sweet potatoes work.

            
 I love vegetable gardening! A tiny little plot, the minimum of attention, yet nonetheless, always the opportunity not just to eat well, but to learn something new.